


Do Come In, Then

by TheReluctantShipper



Series: By Invitation Only [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Anal Sex, Bad Parenting, Biting, Christmas, College Student Castiel, Feelings Got into my Porn, Gay Castiel (Supernatural), Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Sad Castiel, Snow, Sort Of, Sweet Dean Winchester, Vampire Charlie Bradbury, Vampire Dean Winchester, Vampire Kevin Tran, Vampire Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-05-21 04:29:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14908347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheReluctantShipper/pseuds/TheReluctantShipper
Summary: "Well, yes, then," Cas stutters, knows he's stuttering, can't stop for the life of him, "do come in, then."Dean laughs, flashing fangs, and his green eyes are dilated with hunger. "So formal, Cas," he teases.Formal, indeed.Or, in which Cas has the problems and Dean has the fangs.A reverse-verse ofCome On In.





	Do Come In, Then

**Author's Note:**

> \- This is (obviously) a work of fanfiction. I don't own anything but the original characters. I don't claim ownership over the characters or storyline of the TV show Supernatural, no matter how grateful I am for them, which is hella.
> 
> \- Thanks to the Sister Husbands, who are my best friends in the whole world, and happen to be gracious enough to also beta most of my works for me. I don't know what I'd do without you girls, but I certainly wouldn't be doing this.
> 
> \- You can come see me on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/thereluctantshipper) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/TheReluctantSh1?s=09) if me sharing fan edits and bitching about writer's block floats your boat.
> 
> \- I come by any mistakes here honestly, but feel free to point them out so I can correct them.
> 
> \- Shout out to the wonderful [JenSpinner](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenSpinner/pseuds/JenSpinner) and the FB group for the prompt!
> 
> \- Feedback is life.

_You knew this would happen,_ Cas chides himself as the door slams behind him. _You knew they would react this way._

He can still hear his father shouting as he makes his way down the front steps and onto the neatly manicured sidewalk of his family home. Or it would be manicured, anyway, if there wasn’t a foot of snow on the ground, growing higher every minute.

 _They literally kicked me out into the snow,_ Cas thinks, dazed. _On Christmas Eve, no less._

 _You_ knew _this would happen,_ he reminds himself again as he walks to where his car is parked on the street. An offense that would normally send Naomi Novak into hysterics, but she barely got the chance to bitch about it before Cas gave her a hell of a lot more to bitch about.

Bartholomew and Naomi Novak are upper class, white, and perfectly coiffed at all times. (For God’s sake, Cas thinks his mother puts _makeup_ on before taking the _trash_ out, and he has some solid circumstantial evidence to support his claims.) Bartholomew runs a publishing company. He has the face for it, as well as the sharklike business acumen and ruthless demeanor required to not only keep his company at the top, but to take smaller family-run companies and eat them for breakfast.

Naomi is a picture-perfect stay-at-home Christian mother. She raised two perfectly good children, Michael and Anna, before spitting out two mistakes, Gabriel and Castiel. Ironic, Cas thinks, that he and his closest sibling have the most angelic names and are the “problem” children. Gabe, with his snarky demeanor, love of tricks and sugar, and blatant unwillingness to go to church once he got old enough to ask his own questions, bailed from the Novak family the day he turned eighteen two years ago. He cut ties completely with everyone but Cas.

Cas has nothing quite so… _Obviously_ wrong with him. He’s just a beat off of everything Naomi wants in her children. He’s handsome, but unconventionally so, as opposed to Michael. He’s quiet rather than soft-spoken like Anna. He can hold a conversation with other adults, but he’s not good at it, he’s often too blunt for their tastes. It only took until he was fourteen for Naomi to start letting him hide in his room rather than attend his father’s business parties.

He sighs as he gets to his car. _Whatever. You knew this would happen, Gabe warned you what they’d do when you told them._

Oh. And Cas is gay as hell.

Although those are Gabe’s words, rather than his own, and he definitely chose more delicate language to come out to his parents, they’re true. Cas is gay, and for some God-forsaken reason he thought the spirit of Christmas might spare him the wrath of his extremely religious parents. Instead, his mother is crying (a rare form of real emotion), his father is shouting (less rare by far), and he’s been asked to leave and never come back.

_At least she said she’d mail me the rest of my books._

He goes to open his car door and realizes that his keys are in the house. _“Fuck.”_ The curse feels good on his lips out here, on his parents’ front lawn, after the night he’s had.

He’d call Gabriel for a ride, because his older brother wanted to know how it went, anyway, but his cell phone is next to his keys in his trench coat pocket, which is hanging neatly on the five-hundred-dollar coat hanger in the front hall. _(“We could sell it and feed a family of four for two weeks,” Gabriel said under his breath to Cas when they purchased it. “Fuck, I can’t wait to get out of here.”)_

Cas thinks long and hard about whether or not he’s willing to go back into the house for his things. He heard the deadbolt slam shut behind him, so he’d have to knock, which means he’d probably have to speak to one of his parents to get his coat.

It’s cold outside, but not _nearly_ as cold as it is inside.

He has on a thick sweater his eldest sister gave him for Christmas last year _(no gifts this year),_ a thick blue monstrosity that, while a little on the stuffy side, is at least warm, and Charlie insists it brings out his eyes. Unfortunately, he has on slacks, which offer no warmth at all. He at least had the foresight not to wear dress shoes, and his feet are relatively warm in socks and sneakers, although he suspects they’ll be wet very soon.

But he _would_ have to talk to his parents to get his coat.

_Nope._

Although he doesn’t have his keys, he knows that Charlie and Kevin are dropping by tonight, so he can huddle in his doorway and wait for one of them. They know how to pick locks, which he has experienced firsthand, so they can get him inside his apartment.

_You know who else probably knows how to pick locks…_

_No. Absolutely not._

Cas starts to walk home, righteous fury keeping him at least a little warm.

* * *

Righteous fury is actually not all that warming, so by the time Cas makes it to his apartment, he’s _freezing._ He can’t feel his face, or his hands, or really his legs. Only the way that the ground keeps moving lets him know his feet are reliably still landing one in front of the other. He’s shaking like a leaf and soaked to the bone. The snow has somehow gotten _heavier,_ which is all kinds of frustrating and awful.

_Worst. Christmas. Ever._

Worse than all of that is the fact that it’s really sinking in that his parents kicked him out. As the cold wraps horrible, gentle hands around his bones and squeezes the feelings from his limbs, so does the knowledge that their love was conditional. That because he is not perfect, because he is not an up-and-coming titan of industry like Michael, or a quiet and gentle soon-to-be housewife like Anna, he is not deserving of their love or consideration.

 _I’ll have to move out,_ he thinks hysterically. _They own the apartment I live in. They own the car I drive. They own_ everything.

Cas has _some_ of his own money because he put his foot down and got a job at the local library. He’s not _royally_ fucked, but he’ll have to crash on Gabe’s couch until he can find somewhere else to live. Wherever he _does_ find won’t be nearly as nice as the two-bedroom, third-floor apartment his parents rent for him. He wonders if they’ll give him until the end of the month, or if he’ll wake up to movers at his front door, waiting to repossess his furniture.

_It won’t matter, because I’m going to freeze to death out here._

He lives about thirty blocks from his childhood home. It’s quite a walk normally, but in the freezing weather, it’s almost intolerable. He’s in the home stretch, though, and he staunchly refuses to give his mother the satisfaction of freezing to death on Christmas Eve.

 _Bitch,_ he thinks, not for the first time, but this is certainly the time he means it the most.

* * *

He manages to make it to his apartment, although he’s not a hundred percent certain that he’s all in one piece. He can’t see his toes, and he refuses to take his hands out of his pockets to check his fingers. He has come to have a new appreciation for his slacks because although they have offered little protection against the elements, they have offered him _some_ protection, and that is not to be disregarded. He might love them a little.

He gets up the exterior stairs, surely just by the grace of a God he doesn’t believe in and probably wouldn’t like him even if He _did_ exist, and to his door. The short hallway provides a sort of magnifying effect for the wind, making it harsher and seemingly colder. Cas huddles for a moment in front of his door, thankful for the way it’s inset into the wall a bit, providing about a foot of shelter.

 _Thank goodness I’m home,_ he thinks gratefully.

Unthinking, he reaches for his keys.

They’re not there, of course. Cas isn’t sure why, but that is absolutely the last straw.

It all hits him hard and at once. His mother’s lovely eyes filled with tears, his father’s face twisted in rage. Anna and Michael’s faces, warped with disgust and pity as they watched him get disowned. The fact that he’d rather walk _thirty blocks_ in the _freezing cold_ than go inside and ask his family for a coat.

He leans his head against his cold metal door, fighting back the emotions that have his chest constricting and his eyes prickling. _God damn them,_ he thinks viciously. _God damn them all to hell._

He doesn’t know how long he stays there, motionless, with tears running down his cheeks and freezing there before they get a chance to go far, before he’s suddenly pressed up against the door by a big, firm, _warm_ body.

Hot breath _(he must have fed recently if he’s putting out this much heat)_ ghosts over his ear. “Heya, Cas,” the voice purrs. “Why are you out here by yourself, baby?”

Cas shudders and, despite himself, presses back into the warmth of Dean Winchester’s body. “Hello, Dean.”

“Today the day, Cas? You look cold, sweetheart. Bet we could warm you up real good if you let me inside.” Dean’s voice is light, teasing, but there’s a thread of truth beneath everything that’s always there, that has been there in his teasing and flirting from day one.

Cas rolls his eyes. “Vampires aren’t warm, you dolt.”

Dean presses into him harder. “Wanna find out for sure?”

* * *

All of Cas’ friends are dead. _Literally._ They’re all vampires.

It started with meeting Charlie and having late-night geek sessions at the library, which Kevin was inexorably drawn into, as well. Cas is actually a bit embarrassed by how long it took for him to realize that there was something _off_ about the two of them, but it was only a couple of weeks before he started to notice differences between them and the rest of his patrons.

Like how he never sees either of them in the daytime. Or how he so rarely sees either of them eat or drink anything. Or how they’re never tired or run-down when they come to see him after the sun goes down, but both act like they’ve just rolled out of bed.

It came to a head the first time Charlie invited herself and Kevin over to Cas’ house for a movie night _(“Cas, it’s a_ crime _that you haven’t seen any of the_ Indiana Jones _movies. Like, I love you, dude, but what the fuck?”)._ When they both got to the door, Charlie used increasingly stranger and more arcane language to try to get Castiel to formally invite them into his home until it finally all clicked into place for him.

“Vampires,” he remembers blurting out. “You’re vampires.”

Kevin winces, but Charlie beams. “Yeppers! Now, invite us in, we’ve got movies to watch.”

“But you’re… You’re _vampires.”_

“Yeah, and if we wanted to eat you, we already would have.”

And that logic… Well, it was irrefutable. Cas let them in without further argument, and his life has been remarkably unchanged.

* * *

“Dean, I really can’t do this tonight.” He wishes his voice wasn’t quite so defeated.

* * *

Cas met Sam and Dean Winchester, vampire brothers (and really, what the fuck?) through his other vampire cohorts. He gets along swimmingly with Sam. The tall, gentle vampire is an intellectual at heart. He frequently visits Castiel at the library to debate some random literary reference he’s found, since Cas himself is a classic and arcane literature major. He’s also proofread a few of Cas’ essays for him.

Dean, however, is a class unto himself, and the only vampire to whom Castiel has not extended an invitation to his home.

Dean is _dangerous._ Sure, he’s a nerd, and he can hold his own when they’re talking about Star Wars or Trek. And no, of course he’s never said or done anything to threaten Cas. To all appearances, despite the super strength and speed and blood drinking, Dean is harmless.

But he’s _not,_ not to Cas’ peace of mind, and not to Cas’ heart.

* * *

He can feel the way Dean’s body language changes behind him, going from flirtatious to protective in an instant. “Cas?” Even his voice is softer.

* * *

The problem is that Dean is _gorgeous._ With his sharp jawline and green eyes and freckled cheekbones, he’s unapologetically beautiful. He’s got strong shoulders, thick arms, and a trim waist, all of which haunt Castiel’s dreams. His smile could inspire religions and cults, and people would follow him into the depths of Hell.

If that was it, though, Cas could live with it. He could suck it up and let Dean into his home just as often as he lets the other vampires in.

It’s _not,_ though. It’s that Dean is also kind, and funny, and clever. He projects a “man’s man” persona, but when he asks after Cas’ day, he _means it._ He hangs on to each word Cas utters like it’s the word of God. He’s fiercely loyal to the people he considers family, doubly so to Sam.

Dean is dangerous because it would be oh, so, _very_ easy to fall in love with him. And for God’s _sake,_ Cas just really got okay with being _gay,_ the thought of being with _Dean_ is completely overwhelming.

Dean is just… He’s _dangerous._

* * *

“I’m fine,” Cas gasps, because the tears have come back despite his best efforts. “I just… Can’t.”

Dean’s arms have become a comfort instead of a hindrance (if they ever were). One wraps gently around Cas’ waist, tucking Cas close to him. “Jesus, sweetheart,” Dean chides. “You’re soaking wet. What happened?”

“It’s nothing,” Cas whispers, desperately trying to pretend that being held like this isn’t the loveliest thing that’s happened to him… Well, ever.

“It’s not,” Dean says firmly. “You can tell me, come on now.”

Cas leans his head back onto Dean’s shoulder. This is the most openly intimate he’s been with the vampire since they met. “It’s nothing, really. I just… It was stupid.”

“Tell me anyway,” Dean says, easy.

Cas takes a deep breath and lets his eyes slip closed. Maybe it’s because he hasn’t gotten to talk to Gabriel, or anyone really, yet. Maybe it’s because he’s _really_ alone now, not just kind of alone like he was before. Maybe he’s feeling raw and vulnerable and weak. Maybe it’s because Dean’s warm.

For whatever reason, he tells him.

“I came out to my parents tonight,” he says, his voice soft and hatefully wobbly. “They’re _exceptionally_ devout Christians, and it… Didn’t go over well.”

Dean’s arms tighten around him. “What did they say?” His voice is tight, angry. “They didn’t hurt you, did they?”

“No, no, no one got hit or anything. It could have been so much worse, it just…” With the reminder that some people have to fear for their physical safety, Cas feels even dumber about being upset. “They kicked me out. And I left my phone and my keys in my coat pocket, so I decided I’d rather walk home than go back and ask for them back.”

“Aw, the trench coat? I liked the trench coat,” Dean says wistfully, his mouth pressed gently to Cas’ jawline so he can feel Dean’s soft lips catch on his stubble. “How far away do they live?”

“Far enough that I can’t feel any of my extremities,” Cas says bitterly.

Dean sighs, then gently starts to manipulate Cas so that he turns around. He fights it for a moment, because he doesn’t want to see pity in the vampire’s eyes. Now that he’s not some enigmatic nerdboy who refuses his advances, Cas is sure that Dean will lose interest. He’s going to break into Cas’ apartment for him, pat him on the head, and then disappear from the pathetic rich boy whose parents suddenly cut him off.

 _Poor me,_ he thinks, vitriol thick in his inner voice.

He’s staring determinedly at Dean’s chest until a finger beneath his chin forces him to look up at meet Dean’s eyes. Instead of pity, there’s an overwhelming sadness there, and kindness. That, coupled with how delicious Dean looks all wrapped up in a scarf and beanie, makes Cas’ breath stutter in his chest.

“I’m sorry that happened, baby,” Dean says softly. “You didn’t deserve that.”

Cas shrugs. “It’s-”

 _“Don’t_ say it’s nothing,” Dean growls, just enough _vampire_ in his voice to make Cas shiver, and not from the cold this time. “It’s not nothing. Your family is supposed to love you no matter what, Cas, and it fucking sucks that they’re too fucking up their own asses to see how awesome you are. Got me?”

Dean’s fierce defense of him warms Cas a bit. “Yeah, okay, I’ve got you.”

Dean searches his eyes for another moment before nodding, apparently satisfied. His hand moves to slide up to cup Cas’ face, one thumb tenderly running along his cheekbone. Cas thinks it’s fascinating how much he trusts Dean in this moment. He’d give Dean anything. It was just a brief moment of support, but when it’s preceded by _months_ of Dean pursuing him, of watching and pining for Dean from afar, something about it is changing Cas’ mind.

“All right, then,” Dean says with a gentle smile. “What do you want to do now, sweetheart? I’ve got my car, or I can just let you in if you wanna get warmed up and don’t mind that I have to break in. You take the lead, baby.”

In that moment, in this man’s _(vampire’s) (shut up)_ arms, everything becomes crystal clear for Cas.

Will Dean break his heart? Sure, maybe, but maybe _not._ Maybe they’ll have one wild night, a few hours where Dean is here to comfort him because he has a shitty day and shitty parents. Maybe this is a one-off…

But somehow, it doesn’t feel that way. It feels like something much, much more.

So he snakes his arms up around a very surprised Dean’s neck and smiles a little. “Well, you know, I have some ideas about how I could feel better.”

Dean smirks a little, a fire lighting itself in his eyes. “Yeah? How’s that, sweetheart?”

Cas tilts his head up until his lips are almost touching Dena’s. “We could break in and fuck in the apartment my shit parents pay for before they kick me out,” he says lightly.

Lightning fast, Cas finds himself pressed against the door, the metal freezing against his back. Dean’s hands are hard and hot on his hips, and his nose is less than an inch from Cas’. His green eyes burn into Cas’, and his eyes are deadly serious.

“Castiel,” and dear _God,_ does his name on Dean’s tongue sound like sin when said like this. “Let me be very clear, baby. If you want me for tonight, we can have fun, and we’ll go our separate ways. You can even rescind your invitation tomorrow morning.” His smirk grows, and Cas can see a hint of a fang, and _why is that so hot?_ “Or…”

Cas is enthralled. “Or?”

 _“Or,_ you can agree to be mine, baby, and I can take care of you. You can agree that we should acknowledge whatever this is between us, we can have some fun tonight, and you let me take you to a _real_ early breakfast before I take you back to my place and fuck you into the mattress until you feel me for _days.”_

Throughout Dean’s little speech, Cas’ head is getting dizzier and dizzier, his thoughts getting hazier and hazier until he’s awash in a sea of heat and want and _please God fuck me now._

“Is that what you want, little human,” Dean purrs, and is he getting closer? “Do you want to be mine?”

The world seems to pause, every single thing ever holding its breath for Cas’ answer.

It’s so easy now.

“Yes,” Cas breaths. “Please, _please,_ yes.”

Dean’s smile is wide and predatory. It makes Cas tingle, although it could be frostbite (it _is_ still cold outside). “Gotta invite me in then, baby.”

“Oh, y-yes, of course," Cas stutters, knows he's stuttering, can't stop for the life of him, "do come in, then."

Dean laughs, flashing fangs, and his green eyes are dilated with hunger. "So formal, Cas," he teases.

_Formal, indeed._

Dean leans even closer, until his breath is ghosting against Cas’ ear again. “How much do you care about this apartment?”

“Not even a little,” Cas says truthfully.

“Good. That will save us some time.”

One of Dean’s arms comes around Cas’ waist again to pull him taut against the vampire. Cas’ own arms tighten around Dean’s neck and he gives an involuntary gasp. Behind him, he hears a huge _crack,_ and Dean’s grin becomes predatory again. When Cas turns back, he sees the door cracked open a bit, with the frame broken into pieces where the door lock and the deadbolt burst through the wood.

“Uh…”

Dean chuckles and Cas feels it down to his toes. “Like I said. Time saver.”

Cas nods. “Right.”

He turns and reaches behind him to grab Dean’s hand and tug him into the apartment. He feels warmth start to make his cheeks tingle, and his hands start to tremble again as he’s enveloped in temperatures that _aren’t_ freezing.

Dean’s behind him, wrapping him in a hug again. “Let’s do this,” he says, his voice like whiskey, “You go take a warm shower, not too hot, wouldn’t wanna lose any of those pretty fingers, sweetheart. Take as long as you need. I’ll be out here, ready for you when you get out.”

That sounds heavenly, but Cas turns anyway to press his cold nose into Dean’s cheek. “You d-don’t want to j-join me?” he asks, smiling a little, though his teeth are chattering.

He feels Dean’s answering smile. “Oh, baby, you have _no_ idea, but shower sex is complicated, and we’ll have to revisit. There’s nothing complicated about what I want to do to you tonight.”

The words make warmth curl in Cas’ belly, both lust and affection mixing to make him shudder and lean back against Dean’s strong chest, because he can lean on Dean. “Okay,” he says simply.

Dean presses a soft kiss to his cheek. “Go on, now. I’ll be here, baby.”

Cas does as he’s told.

* * *

The warm water is _tremendous._ It makes his extremities sting at first, but it’s not long before it’s sinking in and making him feel loose and pliant. He washes himself lazily, all sense of urgency and stress pushed to the back burner for now.

When he’s done, he towels off slowly, luxuriously. He finds that, instead of being nervous that Dean is outside, he’s feeling rather comforted. Dean will take care of him. Cas is usually pretty independent (sort of, considering his parents have paid for almost everything he owns), but for now, the thought of being coddled isn’t stifling, it’s… Nice.

He wraps the towel around his waist and steps into the hallway. Dean isn’t immediately apparent, but there’s warm, flickering light coming from the bedroom, so he follows that.

He finds Dean in his bedroom, lighting the last of several candles scattered around the room. He’s heart-stoppingly shirtless, his skin golden in the firelight, although his skin has a sort of pale undertone normally. Every lovely muscle is well-defined in his belly, chest, and shoulders, making Cas wonder what the hell took him so long to give in.

Dean notices him standing in the doorway and smirks. “Hey, gorgeous,” he purrs, eyeing Cas hungrily.

Cas rolls his eyes as he makes his way into the room. He knows precisely what he looks like beneath his clothes. The kindest way to describe him is wiry, but scrawny might be more accurate. His legs are lightly muscled from running, but that’s about it.

“Hey,” Dean says, mock-serious. “None of that now.”

Cas smirks. “None of what?”

Dean cocks an eyebrow. “When you’re mine, you’ll learn how to take a compliment.” He ignores Cas’ half-hearted spluttering and nods to the bed. “Lie down on your belly, and lose the towel.”

Cas thinks about protesting, or putting up some sort of token resistance, but decides it would be a bit silly at this point. He crawls onto the bed, letting the towel fall to the ground.

He’s not particularly shy, and he’s never felt the need to be. Most people look a little ridiculous naked, anyway, and everyone has the same equipment (the people _he_ wants to see naked, anyway). He’s also nowhere near being a virgin, and since he lost all of his nerves over Dean himself, he can actually sort of relax on the bed. His arms land at his sides, palms up, and his cheek rests on the cool pillow.

He starts a little when the bed shifts, then again when denim-clad legs straddle his thighs just below his ass. When he hears the _snick_ of a cap opening, he does start to lift his head to look.

“Shh, sweetheart,” Dean soothes. “It’s just massage oil. I’m not jumping right into that sweet ass yet.”

Cas lets his head fall back onto the pillow. “Why not?” he asks out of curiosity more than having a desire one way or another. Now that he’s let Dean in, he knows he’ll get his.

“First of all, I’ve waited for this for too long to rush it.” The sound of him slicking his hands in oil punctuates his words and sends heat spreading through Cas’ belly. “Second of all,” Dean leans down to press a chaste kiss to the back of his neck, “you had a rough day, with a miserable walk home. Sue me if I wanna spoil you now that you’re letting me.”

Without further ado, warm, oiled hands dig into his shoulders. Cas moans, his eyes fluttering shut as Dean begins to work at the muscles that are still tense.

“No complaints from me,” Cas slurs, already thoroughly under Dean’s spell.

Dean massages down each of his arms and along his shoulders and back. By the time he makes it down to just above his ass, Cas is so relaxed that he could quite easily fall asleep. Even his arousal is at a low burn in his veins. It could be ignored or inflamed and he would be content either way.

Until he feels Dean lean down and nose at the back of his neck, then start to lay gentle kisses down the length of his spine. He goes slowly, clearly telegraphing his intent. By the time he’s pressing kisses to each of Cas’ ass cheeks, he’s struggling not to squirm.

“If I do anything you don’t want,” Dean drawls as he shifts so he’s moving down Cas’ body, voice thick with lust in a way that makes Cas’ cock even harder, “just tell me, okay?”

Struggling to find his wit, Cas searches for _anything_ to say. “No safe word?”

Dean nips at his inner thigh, even as he uses those big, calloused hands to spread Cas’ legs so he can settle between them. “Oh, sweetheart, we ain’t doing anything that’ll need a safeword. Yet.” The last is added almost thoughtfully, and Cas’ mind spins with possibilities.

His thoughts are cut short by Dean gently taking his cheeks in hand, spreading him wide, and laving his tongue over his hole.

 _“Holy shit,”_ Cas gasps, his hands coming up to clutch the pillow he’s lying on.

Dean’s deep chuckle sends vibrations up through him, but the vampire doesn’t stop what he’s doing. He teases him with little kitten licks, sending shocks of sensation up through his body, teasing the nerves there, until Cas is relaxed enough that Dean gently starts prodding the tip of his tongue inside. Cas moans loudly when Dean breaches him. Feeling the hot, slick tongue gently licking at his insides makes him arch into Dean, and before he can be embarrassed that he’s shoving his ass into the man’s face, Dean groans and attacks his task with a new fervor, making Cas shudder and whimper.

It seems like forever before Cas feels a slick finger slip in to join Dean’s tongue, and where did Dean even get lube? His hole is loose enough it goes in, though, right up to the webbing, and Dean moans at the feel of it.

“Christ, sweetheart,” Dean groans, pulling away a little bit. “So fuckin’ wet for me already.”

“Dean,” Cas gasps. “Please, _please.”_

“Shh, baby, we’ll get there.”

Dean moves that finger in and out for a few times before he sinks another finger in without warning. Cas moans and cants his hips, desperate for more, for _Dean._

“So pretty here, baby,” Dean murmurs. “Flushed around my fingers for me, all that blood pumping.” Cas shudders at the reminder that Dean can probably _hear_ the way said blood is moving so fast in his veins.

Dean leans down to lick around his fingers, making Cas cry out. “So pretty,” Dean husks, “you smell so good, sweetheart.” He nips at Cas’ inner thigh and Cas whimpers and freezes when he feels fangs, before Dean chuckles just a bit.

“Not tonight, sweetheart,” he promises, and Cas relaxes.

Dean stretches him for several _long_ minutes, tormenting his prostate with soft touches and gentle brushes before he finally pulls out. Cas turns back to watch Dean unzip his jeans, whimpering when he sees that the vampire isn’t wearing any underwear. His cock, thick and beautiful, springs free. It’s a bit shorter than Cas’ itself, but he’s never wanted anything inside him more.

Deah tucks his hands under Cas’ hips and tugs, bringing him up to his knees. Cas’ cock hangs heavy and neglected beneath him, precome soaking the tip, and he’s sure there’s a wet spot where he was lying. Dean moves him into position easily, which is just all kinds of hot, then drizzles his cock in lube and jacks himself a few times, just staring at Cas.

“You ready for this, baby?”

Cas glares over his shoulder. _“Yes.”_

Dean laughs, moving forward until the tip of his cock is pressed against Cas’ hole. “Impatient.”

“Will you get your dick in me already?”

Dean bends at the waist until he can press a kiss to Cas’ shoulder and wraps an arm around his waist. “Yeah, yeah,” he teases as he begins to press in. “I gotcha, sweetheart.”

Cas moans around the stretch, but Dean’s arm is like iron around his waist, preventing him from pushing back into it. Dean makes him take it slow, makes him feel every inch as the vampire sinks into him agonizingly slowly. When Cas finally feels Dean’s hips come flush with his ass, he’s panting and shaking, a fine sheen of sweat covering his body.

 _“Dean,”_ he whispers, _“please.”_

“You want me to move, baby?” Dean purrs in his ear, although his voice is tight with tension and restraint, letting Cas know that he’s not unaffected. “Want me to pull out? What do you want, baby?”

_“Fuck me!”_

To Cas’ delight, Dean snarls, his teeth snapping together, and he starts to fuck Cas in earnest. The fingers of his hand that remains on Cas’ hip flex and hold him hard. Cas hopes there are bruises there in the morning. The arm around his waist stays right where it is, holding Cas exactly where Dean wants him. Vampiric strength is holding them up as Dean’s hips slam into Cas, making him moan and whimper around the incredibly full, fucked out feeling he’s drowning in.

Dean rears back, both hands coming to rest on Cas’ hips, using the bones there like handles to pull Cas back onto him. The change in angle has his cock brushing Cas’ prostate, and the spring of heat and pleasure and desire in Cas’ belly winds tighter and tighter.

_“Dean!”_

“Yeah, come on, sweetheart, scream it out for me,” the vampire growls.

_“Dean!”_

Dean comes back down, bare chest pressed to Cas’ back, and reaches around to wrap a hand around Cas’ cock. “Gonna come for me, Cas?” he whispers harshly. “Gonna come all over me, baby, so you can lick it off?”

The filthy image, coupled with the feeling of Dean’s rough hand on his cock, snaps that spring in Cas’ belly and he comes hard, screaming Dean’s name over and over again, thrusting into the vampire’s hand and bucking back onto his cock until he’s shuddering from oversensitivity.

“Fuck,” Dean says roughly, still fucking Cas, his thrusts becoming erratic. “Holy _fuck_ that was hot, sweetheart, I-”

Dean flings himself back again, thrust hard one last time, and Cas feels a strange noise. He manages to look over again to see Dean biting into his own arm, blood starting to drip down his chin as he shudders and groans. Cas feels Dean’s warmth spreading inside him. It makes him moan a little, thrusting back again.

Dean groans and tilts them over so they’re lying on their sides. He pulls Cas close, nuzzling at his neck and tucking him right up next to him.

Cas floats on afterglow for a while before realizing that Dean’s bitten wrist is currently smearing blood on his chest. He gently takes the arm in hand and pulls it up so he can look at the fang marks there. The skin is torn messily, and there’s bruising around the punctures that speaks to the pressure used to bite down.

Dean is pressing kisses to the skin just behind Cas’ ear. “I’ll be more careful when I bite you, sweetheart,” he says softly.

Wrapped up in Dean’s arms, coming down off of his orgasm, and savoring the promise of more, Cas smiles.

“I am _so_ glad I invited you in.”


End file.
